Midnight Delivery (Shifters of the Three Rivers #9)

Chapter 1

Chapter one

Mai

“Derek, lock down the east exit. Carlito, what’s our time on Raven Run?”

What the hell?

I blinked awake at the sound of Ryan’s voice. There was nothing through our mate bond to suggest Ryan was worried that an attack was imminent.

“Ninety-four seconds is too long. We need to shave it down to eighty-five, at most.”

I groaned and dragged the covers over my head. Another Operation Stork drill. Since I’d been put on bed rest, the Alpha House had been transformed into a military-grade fortress. Security had tripled. The drills had quadrupled. And my patience had dwindled to approximately zero.

I peeked out from under the blanket to see Ryan pacing at the foot of our bed, talking into his phone.

He was shirtless, wearing sweatpants that hung low on his hips, his dark hair still rumpled from sleep.

Even in the midst of my annoyance, my body responded to the sight of him—all hard muscle and focused intensity.

I might be half asleep, but I could think of at least fifteen ways to wake up with Ryan in the room that were fun.

And none of them involved him on the phone running another drill.

Stupid pregnancy hormones. No, in fact, stupid Ryan for insisting on no sex since I had one teeny fainting incident.

The hormones could stay; I just needed Ryan to fuck me.

“Ryan,” I whispered. “It’s six in the morning. Please give it up. I’m okay, the pups are okay. Come back to bed.”

He glanced at me, blue eyes softening, as he continued talking into his phone. “No excuses. If we need to evacuate Mai during labor, every second counts. Run it again.”

I rolled over in bed, my belly making the maneuver significantly more complicated than it used to be and glared at him. Living in Fort Alpha was getting old fast.

It had been three weeks since Thomas, our Pack doctor, had put me on bed rest after I'd fainted during what Ryan had diplomatically referred to as “intimate activities.” Three weeks of Ryan treating our home like we were under siege.

“Ryan. Seriously, some of us are trying to sleep here. And if you can’t sleep, I can think of much better ways to tire you out—assuming you’re finally ready to stop treating me like I’m made of glass.”

He threw the phone onto the cabinet, crossed the room in two strides, gathered me up in his arms, and kissed me senseless.

Yum!

When he broke the kiss, I almost mewed in annoyance.

“I’m sorry I woke you. I meant to kiss you awake, but Carlito and Derek wanted to report in. Thomas is going to be here in ten minutes to do a check-up.” He pressed a soft kiss to my temple. “How do you feel? Any contractions? Dizziness? The babies moving normally?”

“I feel like my mate is conducting military exercises inside our bedroom at dawn. Oh no, wait. He totally is conducting military exercises in our bedroom at dawn.”

Ryan’s mouth twitched, but he looked decidedly unapologetic. “This is important. We need to be prepared for anything.”

“We’re prepared for a zombie apocalypse at this point,” I muttered, struggling to sit up.

The twins had definitely gotten bigger overnight—or at least, that’s how it felt.

Everything was harder now, from rolling over to getting comfortable to finding a position where one of them wasn’t using my bladder as a trampoline or my ribs as a xylophone.

Ryan was at my side in an instant, strong hands helping me adjust the pillows behind my back. His scent—sandalwood and pine—wrapped around me, instantly calming my irritation. Damn him.

I wanted to point out that Thomas lived literally five minutes away and that our Pack had never been safer, but the worry in Ryan's voice stopped me.

He'd been having nightmares lately, about failing to protect me and the babies.

I could feel his anxiety through our mate bond; a constant low hum of tension that never quite went away.

A knock on the doorframe made us both look up. Evelyn stood there in full tactical gear, her long dark braid draped over one shoulder and an expression of barely contained amusement on her face.

“Captain Cuddles reporting for duty.”

I snorted. Ryan had given the enforcers tasked with guarding the house code names. “Just what the hell were you thinking when you named Evelyn Captain Cuddles? She is the least cuddly person I know. No offence, Evelyn.”

“None taken. But I was told it’s what happens when you’ve been up for forty-eight hours straight and then have to assign code names,” Evelyn said, stepping into the room. “Ryan was apparently feeling whimsical.”

“I was being strategic. No one would suspect an operative called Captain Cuddles of being dangerous.”

“I’m not sure the coffee maker would agree.

It fought back this morning—sprayed scalding coffee all over my tactical vest when I tried to get it working.

I may have threatened to shoot it.” She turned to me.

“All panic buttons tested and operational. Ryan instructed us to restock the go-bags with your current cravings—”

“You really didn’t need to do that.” I paused, thinking about it. “But seeing as you already did, please tell me you got rid of the chocolate.”

For some reason, even the smell of chocolate was making me feel nauseous at the moment.

“Banished,” Evelyn said. “Replaced with Flamin’ Hot Cheetos. Though I have to say, your taste buds terrify me.”

Ryan’s eyes widened in horror; he couldn’t stand the smell of Cheetos, especially the flaming hot ones. But he still made sure the house was fully stocked with them.

A soft thud came from under the bed.

Gremlin crawled out, white fur fluffed, blue eyes squinty with judgment. She was definitely on my side and didn’t appreciate being awake at this hour.

Ryan glared at her. “Ah, the little demon awakes.”

I frowned, studying our cat as she padded across the room. Something seemed… different. “Does Gremlin look bigger to you?”

Gremlin hopped up onto the windowsill, tail twitching like a metronome as she stared outside.

“I… maybe? But kittens grow; that’s what they do.”

“This fast?” I tried to remember exactly how big Gremlin had been yesterday. “I swear she's bigger.”

“Pregnancy brain,” Ryan said, but he was frowning at the cat. “It's probably just pregnancy brain.”

“You don't have pregnancy brain,” I pointed out, knowing he saw it too, and it was another thing he was now going to worry about.

“Sympathy pregnancy brain?”

“That's not a thing.”

“It could be a thing.”

Evelyn’s phone buzzed, and Ryan’s gaze landed on her with laser-point focus. Yeah, he was way too on edge.

“Update?” he demanded.

Evelyn glanced at me before saying, “No danger. Wally and Sofia have arrived. With paint samples.”